


Monster by name, human by choice

by miraculousghostspider



Category: Danny Phantom, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Danny & Adrien friendship, Danny feeds on emotions, Danny has more ghostly attributes, Final Battle, First Meetings, Gen, Happy Endings don't worry, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Miraculous Holder Danny Fenton, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Sentimonster Adrien Agreste, for a bit, guys i actually came up with a title for once, headcanons, its not really a focal point but she's good in this, kind of?, mentions of wanting to die, nothing bad or graphic, so many headcanons, this is a lot heavier than usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraculousghostspider/pseuds/miraculousghostspider
Summary: "Just because you're nothumandoesn't mean you're amonster," Danny defended.  "Animals aren't human, but they're still capable offeeling.  Your humanity shouldn't determine yourhumanity.---When the miraculous holders take on Hawkmoth in the final battle, Adrien learns earth-shattering information that turns his world upside-down.  Thankfully, there's someone there who understands.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Danny Fenton, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth
Comments: 20
Kudos: 323





	Monster by name, human by choice

**Author's Note:**

> Finally dipping into the angst pool, but don't worry guys, there's still a happy ending because I can't stand sad endings. Also, my first (posted) Miraculous Ladybug fic!  
> Enjoy!

Paris was a burning wasteland set before them. Buildings had been crushed, with the wreckage they left in their wake spread across city streets and the other homes that fought to stay standing. Cars were overturned and torn apart by magical beings the world could not quite comprehend. The streets that were untouched lay empty and bare, the buildings lining them appearing to be ghosts of their former selves, as the residents had evacuated the day before, when it was clear that this battle would be the one to end the war—the one to determine if the superheroes would come out on top, or if Hawkmoth would be triumphant.

The air hung heavy with dust from collapsed structures and ash that had yet to fade leftover from Stormy Weather’s volcano before she’d been deakumatized and carefully led out of the war zone. Half melted ice was all that remained of Frozer’s attempt to freeze over the entirety of the city.

Every last part-time hero had been called in—including Chloe and Kagami, despite their identities being blown. Several others had lost the secrecy of their identities as Ladybug had forged through the fleeing crowds and given them their Miraculouses, calling them in for the fight of their lives.

She’d called in several new heroes as well, people that had yet to fight in an akuma battle. Juleka, Mylene, Sabrina, Alix (who had previously not been given the Rabbit), as well as Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng, and even more people she thought she could trust and managed to grab before they left the city.

Another hero had shown up hours into the fight, someone they had all heard rumor of but had never had the chance to meet—the Phantom of Amity Park. He had powers that brought down akumas in seconds, healing abilities that saved Queen Bee’s life after she took a nasty hit from Hawkmoth’s sword to protect Ladybug, and a sharp mind that was quick to follow Ladybug’s instructions even though he was clearly more powerful than her.

“I’m not the leader here,” he’d said in a heavy American accent when she’d blinked in shock and confusion after he’d asked her what she wanted of him. “You’re the one who’s been spending your days fighting him, you’re the one who _knows_ him, and so you’re the one we’ll follow. Chat Noir as well.”

Minor heroes had commandeered any grocery stores or restaurants that had yet to be brought down by akumas in order for the heroes to detransform and feed their kwami. Secret identities didn’t matter to anyone, exhausted and scared as they were, and it was impossible to keep track of which people knew which identities.

Alya Cesaire—well known for her obsession with Ladybug and Chat Noir—had taken one look at her best friend feeding a red and black spotted kwami with her hair loose and blood on her shirt and had simply nodded once, too tired to express her thanks in any other way as she called on Trixx to transform her once again and leaped back into the fray.

Hawkmoth’s supply of people to be used as akumas had diminished slowly as heroes saved the civilians and rushed them out of the city so they couldn’t be used against them anymore. Cops and frantic parents waited on the outskirts of the city, ready to carry the formerly possessed people back to safety, rarely noticing the looks of longing on the faces of the heroes that brought them, who were wishing they could follow and just rest for a little while, but knowing they needed to fight. Hawkmoth had stooped to using the anguished heroes as prey for his akuma, which made fighting that much more difficult.

Lila fought on Hawkmoth’s side, playing the part of Catalyst and Volpina, having the powers of the Fox Miraculous on top of the power to increase Hawkmoth’s abilities, casting illusions as she gave the supervillain the strength he needed to continue fighting, boosting Mayura in the same way. It was clear—as she was defeated by Carapace and Bunnyx only to grab another akuma moments later—that she was willingly working with Hawkmoth and Mayura, proving her dark and twisted soul with every attack she instigated and hurt the heroes with. She had moved up from a serial liar to a murderer, and had it not been for Phantom’s healing powers as well as Viperion’s second chance power, someone would surely be dead at her hand.

“Give it up!” Chat Noir cried, fight sword against baton with Hawkmoth on top of the Eiffel Tower, ignoring the first beep of his ring from the Cataclysm that currently trapped Mayura under the rubble below them so she couldn’t help her partner. “You can’t fight us forever!”

Ladybug was busy purifying the many akuma that hung in the air, waiting to sweep in on unsuspecting superheroes as they felt the hopelessness of the situation. He couldn’t look away long enough to see where everyone else was without risking giving Hawkmoth an opening to strike, but the sounds of battle made it clear they were busy.

“Neither can you, _boy,”_ the villain spat, looking the part of a crazed supervillain with the wild look in his eyes and his careless attacks.

“I have people fighting _with_ me, people I trust. Not just pawns in a twisted game.”

His muscles _burned_ at the stress of fighting for more than twelve hours straight, something he hadn’t even known was _possible_ with the magic of his suit protecting him from the worst pains during akuma attacks. Plagg was probably _exhausted._ He could only hope that Nooroo was as well, and that it wouldn’t be long before his timer would run out.

He heard Mayura curse as she struggled and bit his lip in worry. If she managed to get out before he could escape and recharge, together the two supervillains might be able to take his Miraculous.

“You know _nothing,”_ Hawkmoth growled, his cane/sword swinging up and slicing Chat Noir’s left cheek open, the cut stopping just below the corner of his eye. He wiped the blood out of his face, though it didn’t do much as it continued to flow and drip down his chin, making it look somewhat like he was crying.

“I know that what you’re doing _wrong,_ no matter what goal you’re trying to achieve. There _will_ be a price, and you can’t just _choose_ what you want to pay.”

Hawkmoth didn’t respond, clearly _far_ beyond reasoning with. Maybe if they’d been able to get to him sooner—not that he’d given them any chance to do so—then they might’ve been able to help him.

Chat Noir hissed as he was forced up against open-air, Hawkmoth’s sword held to his chest. He would have to retreat and recharge. It was clear that he wouldn’t be beating Hawkmoth right now. He held his baton over empty space and was about to press the button to extend it when his transformation fell apart, Plagg bursting out of the ring and spiraling to the ground before flying off to find food, too exhausted to hold on any longer.

Adrien yelped and stumbled at the sudden lack of cat-like balance, the air turning icy without the protection of his suit and chills running up and down his spine at the greedy look that entered Hawkmoth’s eyes.

“Adrien,” he breathed, grinning as though he’d just been handed the Miraculous on a silver platter. “My son.”

Adrien felt his heart stop beating. His lungs were suddenly too small, unable to fill to their full potential. He couldn’t _breathe._ Spots danced in his vision as he gasped for air, those two simple words tearing the world apart beneath his feet.

“No,” he choked out, bile rising in his throat. “Father, _no!”_

“You can _help_ me,” Hawkmoth pleaded, those he seemed more excited at the prospect of help and greedy for power. He didn’t even look guilty that he’d been hurting Adrien for years now. “Can’t you _see_ now? I’m doing this for _you,_ to bring back your mother. Don’t you want that?”

“I can’t—” Adrien managed to say through the burning in his chest. “Why would you—who—but you— _why?”_

“Just give me your Miraculous, son. We can be a family again.”

“No,” he sobbed, tears filling his eyes and obstructing his vision as his legs grew weak and he was forced to take a step towards his mortal enemy lest he fall to his death. “Mother wouldn’t _want_ this.”

“You know _nothing!”_ he snapped again, and Adrien flinched at the hatred in his tone. Had he really lived with this madman for _years_ without realizing just how _insane_ he was? Had Gabriel always been this far gone or had Adrien just not noticed his sanity slipping away through the cracks of the façade he put up every day?

“Join me, Adrien,” he said. “Together we can defeat Ladybug and bring back your mother. I’ll even make it so the insolent bug is in love with you in my wish, if that’s what you want. All you have to do is give me your Miraculous.”

Adrien wrapped his left hand over his right so tightly his knuckles turned white, hiding his ring from his father.

“Never,” he snarled. “I’ll never work for you, Hawkmoth. I don’t care _who_ you are.”

Gabriel’s expression grew dark and stormy and he seemed as though he were resigning himself to something. “I see,” he said, but Adrien didn’t believe for a second that the calm in his voice wasn’t fictitious. “Well then. I must apologize, because I have to break a promise I made to your mother. Nooroo, dark wings fall.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his lips as the bright purple light of his transformation fell away, his heart heavy. This made it real and certain. There was no more denying it: Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.

“Wasn’t I enough?” he asked, _hating_ how his voice cracked even as he tried to sound strong, betraying how _broken_ he felt though he stood tall. He wished Plagg were with him, but he knew his kwami needed to go find food so that he could transform again. “Were you just _incapable_ of being alone with me? Did you even _care_ about me?”

“You reminded me too much of her,” Gabriel said in a pained voice, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a simple silver chain with a locket of the same color on it. “You remind me more of her every day.”

Adrien _seethed_ with anger. How _dare_ he? How dare he act like this was Adrien’s fault? How dare he try and tell him that the reason he’d tormented Paris for _years_ was because Adrien looked like his mother? If it had been a few years earlier, he probably would have blamed himself because of that, but he was far past caring about his father and far past thinking his father actually cared about him. If he had been able to move on from losing his mother, Gabriel could’ve moved on from his wife.

“I knew she would never forgive me if I recalled the amok,” Gabriel continued. “and I was too afraid to risk the Peacock Miraculous killing me as well to attempt to, so I had to find another option.” Adrien blinked, his anger fizzling away into confusion for the moment. _Recall the amok? What was he_ talking _about?_ “I never thought I would have to do this. You were the perfect son already—you followed the rules and did exactly as you were told—there was no _need_ to control you, not when you’d listen without it.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as it finally hit him what Gabriel was implying, his heart beginning to pound in his chest and his throat growing dry.

“No,” he croaked out, so quietly he was surprised Gabriel even heard it.

“Yes, Adrien. Emilie couldn’t have children, but she wanted a son so _badly._ She knew it was dangerous. I warned her, Duusu warned her, but she did it anyway. She created life with the Peacock Miraculous.

“It seemed like it was fine, at first. You were a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby boy, and Emilie was healthy as well. We were happy.

“But as time went on, she began to get sicker and sicker. I knew exactly what was causing it, of course, even though we had thought any effects would show much sooner, and I _begged_ her to release the amok. You have to understand, child, I _loved_ her, I still do. But she loved you too much. She refused to hurt you, even if you’d never know the difference. I should have done it myself, regardless of how angry she would be at me. Maybe then she’d still be alive.”

 _No no no no no._ Adrien let out a choked sob even as he tried to hold it back, his tears mingling with his blood as he fought the urge to throw up. He’d been the one to kill his mother. He wasn’t real, he was a monster.

_A sentimonster._

“I’ll give you one more chance to join me, son.”

“Don’t _call_ me that,” Adrien cried, the word making his skin crawl, the polar opposite of the week before, when he would have given anything for his father to simply look in his direction.

Gabriel sighed. “I didn’t want to do this, Adrien. But you leave me no other choice.” He raised the locket, and Adrien barely had the time to think _my amok_ before his thoughts went blank as Gabriel seized control over him.

There was nothing outside of Gabriel’s wishes. He couldn’t feel anything besides the hand on the amok, as though someone had drained him of any and all feeling. He was nothing and nothing mattered to him.

“Adrien,” a voice said, and he immediately stood straighter, prepared to do whatever was asked of him. “I order you to—” The owner of the voice cried out in pain and Adrien blinked to see Gabriel on the ground with an unfamiliar bright green substance coating his shirt. The locket had fallen from his hands, which explained why he was aware again, and before Gabriel could grab it back, it _vanished,_ as though it were never there in the first place.

“No!” Gabriel roared, looking angrier than Adrien had ever seen him. “Nathalie!”

Mayura leaped up from below—finally free of the rubble—and hesitated, looking at her employer for confirmation. He nodded, and she raised her hands to snap, but before she could even place her fingers in position, something ripped the Miraculous off her chest and her transformation dissolved.

Adrien didn’t care. Even though his mind was once again his, he just felt empty, _numb._ The moment Gabriel had lost hold of the locket and he was in control of himself again, his knees gave out and he crumpled, falling to the ground. His former fear and sadness had been ripped out and left a gaping hole in his chest, nothing left to fill its place.

How could he be angry, or mournful, or scared? He was a monster, he couldn’t _feel._ He killed his mother, he didn’t _deserve_ to feel. He had to give back his ring so Ladybug could find a _real_ partner, a _human_ one, and then he could have her destroy his amok and be gone.

_(He always knew he wasn’t good enough for her.)_

He barely even registered Plagg reappearing, pressing against his cheek and purring, the sound resonating through Adrien’s mind and calming him slightly (though his poor kwami had to be confused as to what was happening). He didn’t notice Gabriel call out his transformation words as purple light came over him once again, or how he held his hands protectively over the brooch on his neck.

As invisible arms wrapped around his waist and _yanked_ him off the Eiffel Tower, flying him to an empty street that was void of human life, his only response was a small gasp at the suddenness of the action.

 _Phantom,_ his mind supplied, but he found he didn’t really care who it was that had grabbed him. He just wanted _away._

The farther away from the Eiffel Tower they flew, the clearer his mind became. Not to imply that Adrien felt _okay,_ just that the numbness had faded away into the feelings he’d been trying to block out. The beginning of a panic attack crept at the edges of his consciousness, slithering through the walls he had put up and making his heart beat faster and faster and _faster he had to get_ **_away_ ** _Father no no no why would you do this? Mother please I can’t I can’t I can’t—_

He fell to the ground as Phantom dropped him far away from the battle, the pain in his palms as they slapped roughly against the asphalt a welcome relief from the chaos of his mind.

(He didn’t notice the bright white light that appeared around Phantom’s waist, spreading over his body and bringing forth the transformation from ghost to human even faster than normal, as he had been _fighting_ to stay transformed before, exhausted as he was.)

He was a _monster._ He hadn’t born in a hospital bed, his mother lying exhausted as his father cradled his tiny head gently—as he’d been told whenever he asked about his birth. No—he’d been _shaped._ Molded, as though from clay, formed to be the perfect child his parents could never have. No wonder Gabriel always got so upset when he made a mistake—he’d been created to be perfect.

 _(Not only was he a monster, he was a_ broken _monster.)_

He hadn’t even _known._ If his father had caught onto his identity sooner, he could have been used to destroy Ladybug, and he wouldn’t have been able to care—wouldn’t have been _allowed_ to. Even now, if his father found his amok, he would be able to turn him against his friends _(How could he have friends? He wasn’t_ **_real_ ** _)_ in a heartbeat.

He flinched involuntarily as cold hands encircled his own, pressing icy metal into his palm.

“Adrien?” a voice he vaguely recognized in the corner of his mind asked. “Can you hear me?” They spoke with an American accent, but the words were still easily understandable.

“Wh-how?” he gasped, his thoughts still fuzzy as he struggled to breathe. _Oh god, he couldn’t_ **_breathe._ **

“Adrien, you’re hyperventilating. I need you to breathe with me, okay?”

Adrien wanted to tell him that he _couldn’t._ How was he supposed to _breathe_ when his world was crashing and burning and trapping him under the wreckage it left behind? He had _nothing._ But he couldn’t tell him that because he couldn’t _breathe._

“Take a deep breath with me, okay? Can you do that?” The hands squeezed once, reminding him of their presence, and he tried the focus on them through his tumultuous thoughts, trying to remember who they belonged to.

“That’s it. A few more times, okay? You got this. You’re doing fine, Adrien. It’s gonna be alright.”

He opened his eyes, having not realized until he did so just how _uncomfortable_ it had been to have them squeezed shut so tightly, not daring to let the barest hint of light in.

An unfamiliar boy sat in front of him in the middle of an unfamiliar street, hands in his own. He had dark hair that fell into his crystal blue eyes, and his cheeks were stained with ash and blood, reminding Adrien of his own wound.

He moved to wipe the blood away, but the boy caught his wrist in his hand, inhumanly fast.

“Let me,” he said gently, and Adrien was shocked to see a soft blue light appear around his hand as he raised it to Adrien’s face. It was incredibly cold, but he held still until his hand lowered, bringing his own hand up to his face at that point and feeling the way it had scabbed over in only a few seconds. The boy looked noticeably more exhausted.

“Phantom?” Adrien asked hesitantly, familiar with the power he’d seen used several times in the fight and yet unsure.

The boy gave him a lazy grin, though it was overshadowed by the exhaustion in his eyes.

“You can call me Danny, but yeah.”

“How—what—?” Adrien started, before hissing as though he were an actual cat, the sound sharp and dangerous. In his palm, Pha— _Danny_ had set two things: the locket (his amok) and the Peacock Miraculous.

“I figured you’d want to hold onto them,” Danny said, shrugging lightly. He was still holding onto Adrien’s empty hand, and Adrien clenched it so tightly he was probably hurting him, using the pressure to ground him so he wouldn’t descend into another panic attack.

“Oh _god,”_ he breathed, horrified.

“You’re okay,” Danny told him, calm even though the situation called for anything _but._

“I—did you _hear_ him? I’m a sentimonster! I’m not—I’m not even _human.”_

Suddenly unable to hold it back any longer, he jerked his head to the side and threw up over the pavement, the acidic scent infiltrating his nose and his taste buds.

“I’m just a monster,” he said, spitting out bile seconds later.

He caught the sight of Danny’s eyes flashing a bright, glowing green out of the corner of his eye and glanced up at him. He was _seething_ with anger.

“I literally _feed_ on human fear, Adrien. It gives me energy. I can stop my heart whenever I please and be completely fine. I am in _no way_ human. Does that make me a monster?”

“No!” Adrien assured him quickly, scooting away so he wouldn’t accidentally end up in his lunch. “You’re a hero.”

“So are you,” Danny shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Just because you’re different doesn’t mean you’re—what’s the word? Naturally? Logically?”

“Inherently?” Adrien questioned, and Danny snapped, nodding.

“That’s it. Sorry, I haven’t practiced my French this much in a while. Anyway, just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re inherently _evil._ Dogs aren’t human, but they get super excited to see their owners. Cats aren’t human, but they purr when they’re content, right? Birds aren’t human, but they can learn to talk, and some can even _understand_ what they’re saying.

“Your humanity shouldn’t determine your _humanity._ Does that make sense?”

Adrien huffed out a laugh, eyes wet with tears that he wiped away with the heel of his palm. “That doesn’t change the fact that I’m _not_ human when my whole life I thought I was.”

Danny frowned. “I _was_ human. Growing up, I was just a normal kid. But then I got into an accident and suddenly I _wasn’t._ Suddenly I was only _half,_ and as much as I tried to pretend at first that I was just a human kid with cool ghost powers, it didn’t change the fact that I was a ghost too. It’s not the same as discovering you were never human in the first place, but I get where you’re coming from probably better than anyone else—with the exception of Loki, probably.”

Adrien grinned at him, though he was sure he didn’t look happy. “Never thought I’d have something in common with _Loki_ , of all people.”

Danny shrugged. “You never know. But anyway, not being human doesn’t mean you’re not _real._ You can clearly feel scared, if the panic attack you just had was any indication, and you can feel pain, and you can get hurt, and you can love and make friends and be happy. The only difference is where you came from, and the world has enough people being hated just because they’re from somewhere different.”

“Thanks,” Adrien sniffed, wiping away more tears as they fell and trying not to look like a total child.

“I felt the exact same way you’re feeling now,” Danny admitted. “When I realized just how far from human I was. I don’t want you to have to go through what I did.”

“Does it get easier?” Adrien asked, his voice barely a whisper that was swept away with the wind the moment the words were uttered.

Danny gave him a melancholy smile. “Sometimes. Sometimes I look around and I _feel_ human, and I’m content just being who and what I am. But a lot of times, especially when I have to do something for my ghost half, something that’s decidedly _not_ human, I just feel _awful,_ even though I know I shouldn’t.”

“Good days and bad days?” Adrien summed up, trying to smile.

Danny cracked a grin back at him. “Yeah. But just because you’re not human doesn’t mean you’re a monster. It took me a long time to learn that myself.”

Adrien didn’t bother mentioning that it would probably take him just as long to believe it, instead opting to fasten the locket around his own neck. _He_ was in charge of himself from now on. Not anyone else.

“I’d offer to let you use the Peacock Miraculous, but I’m pretty sure it’s still broken,” Adrien said wryly, tucking it into his pocket instead and petting Plagg’s head softly when his kwami nudged him kindly. He was obnoxious, but Adrien wouldn’t trade him for anything.

“I wouldn’t have accepted it even if you had,” Danny told him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have anyone who’s aware of your origins using the Miraculous, just to be on the safe side. But if you have another one lying around, I’m trying not to use my powers too much, in case someone gets seriously injured and needs my help.”

“Plagg, claws out!” Adrien cried, pulling out his baton as the familiar cool of his transformation washed over him. “I’m sure m’lady would be happy to tell me where Master Fu his the Miracle Box before he fled if I asked nicely.”

Danny smirked at him, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Perfect. I want to get at least one good hit in on your father before we totally kick his ass.”

If people were surprised when Phantom disappeared for the rest of the fight and Chat Noir came back with a Phoenix holder of all things, no one mentioned it.

(He broke Hawkmoth’s nose.)

* * *

“Promise me something?” Astral asked, bumping his foot against Chat Noir’s as they sat on the edge of a rooftop, waiting for Ladybug to finish collecting all the Miraculous she’d handed out before she cast the cure.

“Sure,” Chat said, basking in the sunlight as it rose over the horizon, casting beautiful colors on the canvas of the sky. His mind wandered aimlessly now that the danger was gone and he could relax without risking his life. Even though his muscles ached and he was caked in dirt and blood, he couldn’t help but feel peaceful.

The scar on his cheek would stay forever. Damage done by other Miraculous couldn’t always be fixed by the cure, depending on what it was, and the cut was one such thing that would remain unaffected. Chat Noir found he didn’t really mind that as much as he’d thought he would.

Sure, it would always be a reminder of his father’s betrayal, and of his unlikely origin, but it would also be a reminder that he could _feel,_ pain and fear and happiness and everything in between. It would be a reminder of the day they saved Paris, even if he couldn’t tell anyone that. It would be his ticket out of modeling (assuming the reveal of his father’s identity wouldn’t get him kicked out of the industry already), freeing him to work wherever he pleased.

He could feel the locket on his neck, even though he was transformed, and he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not.

“Promise me you’ll live,” Astral continued, oblivious to Chat Noir’s inner thoughts. “Fall in love and have your heart broken and get a job and lose and work hard only to have it fall apart and get into college and study and pass and fail and try again and don’t give up. Figure out who you want to be and find people that’ll help you become that.”

Chat Noir hummed, smiling at the thought of that. It sounded _hard_ and _exhausting,_ but so much better than anything he’d imagined as a kid.

“On one condition: you do the same.”

Astral grinned, holding out a hand for him to shake. “It seems we have a deal.”

Chat Noir grasped his hand in his own and gasped as the magical ladybugs swarmed over the city, righting buildings and healing aches and pains and clearing the air from the ash and heaviness that had been infused in it ever since Hawkmoth showed his face, and he felt _fixed_ as they washed over him and left him energized and awake and _warm_ , even though he knew he hadn’t been broken.

He was going to struggle, he knew. There would be days where he’d feel awful and disgusting and less than the people around him, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.

“It seems we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> (They totally invited each other to their graduations/weddings/any other celebration.) I was originally planning on Adrien having Marinette hold onto his amok, but I don't feel like that fits with the theme I was going for since the whole point is that _he's_ in control of himself. He doesn't need to give her that power over him to trust her. (He told her that he was a sentimonster though, don't worry.)  
> I hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments make my day! :)


End file.
